


a sunrise on the east side

by bellawritess



Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Love, M/M, New York City, although if you really think about it, cannot stress enough how much fluff and poetry this has, is that a summary of the fic or an explanation of me writing it?, isn't all jalex really for sam? in a way?, no sleep only boys, poetic bullshit, romanticization of new york city, this is for Sam, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28167411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: He’s not tired, that’s the thing. Alex has a theory about New York City, about the rattling of the underground Subway system working its way into the bones of unsuspecting travelers. It’s a city of paradoxes, an unlikely place: the uneasiness that comes from walking over a grate that you know for absolute certain won’t fall through, the gleaming beauty of artificial lights that drown out any and all stars, the impossible warmth in the middle of December. Sure, Alex has been shivering, but he’s notcold.He couldn’t be, not here.
Relationships: Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	a sunrise on the east side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yellingatbabylon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellingatbabylon/gifts).



> i wrote this in an hour because sam had a bad day (night?) at work and i wasn't getting anywhere with my other fic and i wanted her to have something nice and sweet to come back to so sam, i hope this makes you smile
> 
> yes, i wrote the entire fic around the intention of using this title, and yes, i did listen exclusively to coffee shop while writing it. but on the bright side i can definitively say that it takes 20 plays of coffee shop soundtrack to write one excessively fluffy jalex fic
> 
> fair warning re: me speed writing this in the last hour. it might not make a lot of sense. i don't KNOW if it does, because it's 2:30am right now, but if it doesn't i refuse to be held responsible and all complaints can be taken to sam. that's a joke omg don't do that you can complain to me
> 
> is there even a point in sourcing the title
> 
> [tumblr link if you want](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/post/637915462327468032/a-sunrise-on-the-east-side)

“It’s pretty, huh?”

Alex blinks and turns. He’s not sure why he’s surprised at the company. Early-late hours have never separated them before. “Yeah,” he says. A shiver steals over his skin, and he fails to suppress it. “Cold, but yeah. Pretty.”

Jack smiles softly and holds out a hoodie. Grateful, Alex takes it and pulls it on. It’s one of Jack’s, and he already knows the sleeves of this one fall too far over his hands, but it’s his favorite one to wear, and Alex knows that’s not a coincidence. 

“Can I join you?” Jack inquires, shifting on his feet closer to Alex. 

Alex feels a smile pulling at his lips. “Always.”

Jack pulls the sliding door to the balcony shut behind him. As he settles against the railing, flush against Alex’s side, his hand finds Alex’s and their fingers intertwine. It’s comforting to have something as reliable as Jack on tour life, Alex thinks. Every day brings a new city, and if Alex weren’t anchored he’d float away or get swallowed up in the madness of it all. Jack is like a reset button; just as Alex changes the time zone of his phone’s clock to keep it accurate, so Jack does for Alex, realigning him every night to make sure he’s always the right Alex.

“You know,” Jack says lightly, “I’m no weather boy, but I bet you wouldn’t be cold if you weren’t standing outside at six in the morning in New York in the middle of December.”

“I know,” Alex sighs. “I just, I know that.”

“Hey, but like I said, I wouldn’t know,” Jack says, leaning into Alex. _I’m not judging_ , is what he means. Alex recognizes this for the out that he knows it is, but he doesn’t need or want an out.

“Nothing’s wrong, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says.

Jack hums. “Did you sleep?”

Alex sighs again and doesn’t answer. 

“Alex,” Jack says wearily. “You not sleeping means something’s wrong.”

“No, honestly,” Alex says. A thought occurs to him, and he glances at Jack out of the corner of his eye. “Wait, did _you_ sleep?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “Some. I just woke up to get water and you still weren’t in bed.”

“I got distracted.” Alex frowns. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Jack says. “Distracted by what? Aren’t you tired?”

He’s not tired, that’s the thing. Alex has a theory about New York City, about the rattling of the underground Subway system working its way into the bones of unsuspecting travelers. It’s a city of paradoxes, an unlikely place: the uneasiness that comes from walking over a grate that you know for absolute certain won’t fall through, the gleaming beauty of artificial lights that drown out any and all stars, the impossible warmth in the middle of December. Sure, Alex has been shivering, but he’s not _cold_. He couldn’t be, not here.

It’s not a city he can love without hating or hate without loving, and maybe that’s what Alex loves about it. 

Maybe it reminds him of someone else he loves.

“I just wanted to look,” he says, sidestepping the question. “The view is nice.”

Jack is quiet for a moment. The tap-tap-tapping of his fingers drumming against the balcony railing is all but swallowed up by the racing noise of cars below. They’re high, high above the city and its streets and grates and people. This hotel had boasted nice views, and Alex has to admit they hadn’t been bullshitting; it’s stunning watching the city that never sleeps, trying to catch it drifting off only to realize it had been his own eyes fluttering shut, not the city’s — that the city really _doesn’t_ ever sleep.

There’s something poetic in there. Alex has been jotting down phrases into his phone, but his addled brain can’t come up with anything nice enough to rhyme.

“Aren’t _you_ still tired?” Alex says quietly. The city has been singing, its crescendos and diminuendos not unlike a symphony. Every once in awhile a sforzando will catch him off-guard — someone below will honk angrily or a shouting match will suddenly arise — but it inevitably evens out to the steady New York City soundtrack. Yet another paradox: the most dynamic city in the world is somehow the most rock-solid. Despite being wholly unpredictable, Alex can count on it to do as it has always done.

Jack is silent for another minute. “I don’t know,” he says. “I mean, yeah. I’m tired, but I’m not…I don’t want to go back to sleep.” He pauses. “Without you.”

Alex closes his eyes and lets the sound of the city wash over him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s not what — I wasn’t trying to guilt you.”

Alex chuckles. “Well then you did a pretty bad job.”

“I really wasn’t,” Jack says through an easy laugh. “I guess I meant that I’d rather stay out here with you. If that’s okay.”

“It’s always okay,” Alex mumbles, tilting his head onto Jack’s shoulder and squeezing his hand. “Spent an hour standing out here wishing you were with me. I’m always wishing for that.”

Jack kisses his hair. “You could just ask,” he suggests. “You know I’d always rather be with you than alone.” The low timbre of his voice blends seamlessly into the sounds of New York, and Alex falls victim to another paradox: he’s falling for a man he’s already in love with, somehow newly smitten with someone he’s known for more than half his life. 

Alex chews the inside of his cheek and takes a deep, cleansing breath. A cleansing breath of some of the filthiest air in America — the paradoxes are relentless. “You were sleeping. You looked so cute and comfy. And warm. I couldn’t wake you.”

Jack rubs the pad of his thumb over the back of Alex’s hand. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t have complained. This is nice.”

“Sleep is nice.”

“Hey, we can go to sleep if you wanna sleep,” Jack says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I’m not gonna be the one to argue with you.”

Alex shakes his head as best he can. “I’m not gonna sleep.” _You should,_ he doesn’t say. Not because he doesn’t want to be hypocritical — he does — but because he knows it’ll have no effect. Jack wants to be with Alex, and Alex wants Jack here. Neither of them could compel Jack to leave, so Alex doesn’t waste breath trying. 

“Okay. I’ll stay, then.”

Alex swallows and picks his head up. He can see Jack illuminated by city lights, a harsh glare softening as it soaks into his skin. “I love you so much,” he murmurs. Even if he’d never said the words before, Jack would be able to read them off his expression. And though he _has_ said them before, they still feel a little strange in his mouth. Not bad strange. Just…new. Like they’ve evolved, gained new meaning. Like Alex’s I-love-you count has been wound down to zero again, and he gets to start afresh, meeting new quotas with this new I-love-you that means everything it always did and something extra.

Alex isn’t sure what the _something_ is, but he’s sure it has to do with this moment, right now, the lights on Jack’s face and their fingers interlaced on an Upper East Side balcony in December.

“Alex,” Jack exhales, smiling so warmly, speaking so softly. “I would freeze to keep you warm.”

“Oh,” Alex says, a little breathless. “Maybe you should be the songwriter, Jack.”

But Jack just shakes his head. “No way,” he says. “It wouldn’t be the same if everyone got to know it.”

A final paradox, a gift from the city, Alex thinks, leaning into Jack until their lips meet. Him and Jack, unlikely lovers. The chill only makes Jack’s presence warmer; Alex’s loud and messy love makes Jack’s seem that much quieter, more deliberate. They draw the best out of each other, fix each other’s flaws, and though they’re both whole people, Alex also knows he’d be incomplete without Jack.

They linger until the sun starts peeking over the horizon, and in the golden morning light, Jack is the most beautiful part of the view.

**Author's Note:**

> is unlikely lovers a falsettos reference? maybe. yes. of course it is. who do you think i am. anyway. sam, i love you and i hope this made you feel a little better. everyone else: i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hello. love you all, shout out to jack for putting jasey rae on his set that was a real move on his part, okay that's all bye off to write my other fic that i actually need to write <3


End file.
